


Things We Can't Say on the Radio

by secretsofluftnarp (luftie)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Carlos, Canon Queer Relationship, Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, First Time, M/M, Mild Smut, My First Work in This Fandom, Social Anxiety, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luftie/pseuds/secretsofluftnarp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is relatively inexperienced in the sex and relationships department. Cecil is from Night Vale. Third date, at Cecil's place.</p><p> </p><p>I'd been thinking about Carlos in One Year Later ("Sometimes things seem so strange, or malevolent, and then you find that, underneath, it was something else altogether. Something pure, and innocent”), and about internalized homophobia, and about being a socially inept queer person, and this is what I came up with.</p><p>Many thanks to tenaciousAmbler for the beta read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Can't Say on the Radio

"Is something wrong?"  
  
They were inside Cecil's now -- his studio apartment was both amazing and utterly mundane, but that wasn't what had Carlos worried. He had somehow anticipated the walls which were either emitting or absorbing light, the red, rippling coffee table with its loose pile of chattering electronics, its discarded sandwich wrappers, and its leather-bound books of popular radio dramas. The bed was made tight, like a three-piece suit, and this also struck Carlos as both otherworldly and totally, completely normal.

This was their third date. For their second date, they had gone to the Pinkberry and walked out arm-in-arm, all the way to a secluded part of Grove Park where they started to kiss and had a hard time stopping, until Cecil panicked about breaking some sort of ordinance and breathily whispered, "Tomorrow." Which was today.

When Cecil had mentioned his place, voice syrupy and suggestive, and then quickly covered with an offer to show Carlos his collection of contraband kitchen appliances -- Carlos knew he needed to go with him, to show Cecil that he wanted whatever Cecil was offering. And he had shambled up the stairs to the apartment, very unsure of what it was that he wanted to do, but once they were inside and sinking into that perfect bed, Carlos knew he wanted to keep kissing Cecil, wanted his deft fingers wrapping around him in unexpected ways, and when hands started sliding around under each other's shirts he wanted that too. But once they were shirtless, and kissing, Carlos had panicked, because he was at a loss for what to do next. Which was why Cecil was now gently holding his shoulder and looking at him with just the right blend of sincerity and concern.

When he was around Cecil, Carlos tried not to think of his romantic failures: Annie, his college lab partner who seemed to want to go with him everywhere, and it had taken him forever to understand why; he had tried very hard to fall for Annie, and couldn't, somehow. The very ordinary looking jock type who stormed out of a party, discarded Solo cup splashing beer on Carlos' shoes, after Carlos wouldn't suck his dick. Carlos might have done it, if he had understood the mumbled question, just to see what it was like.

Carlos' friends from college (Vicky and Fareeba, who were literature and drama majors) would occasionally hint that there were boys he should flirt with. He would smile and brush it off, but risk of failure was too great. What was he supposed to say? _Hey, I like you, I have no idea if you like me, wanna make out?_   He didn't know how to be the person his friends seemed to perceive him as. He had trouble imagining a future for himself, being who he was.  
  
Carlos threw himself into his studies, knowing that was, at least partly, a way to hide. He was compelled by science, but not the science he learned in class: weird science, fringe science, which meant that his grades in run-of-the-mill science sometimes weren't very good. Whenever life got too overwhelming and he ended up spending a lot of time alone, he would repeat to himself that he was a scientist, this is how scientists are, but his post-college career was full of fumbles and restarts and lack of impressive data. Heading to Night Vale was a gamble, driven by his passion to explain the inexplicable. He hadn't been thinking of dating prospects; he didn't really think anyone would be interested.

When Carlos had heard the radio host swooning over him on the air, he thought Cecil must have been joking. He would often think that the whole town was an elaborate practical joke, that if he remained professional he would earn the respect of someone who could show him the someone or someones behind the curtain. But there was no curtain, only void, terrifying and leaving him floundering for a hand to hold, and that hand, somehow not at all terrifying -- was Cecil's.

Carlos forced himself to speak. "I haven't been with -- someone like you -- before."  
  
Carlos had spent so much time obsessing over whether he was the kind of person who would be with girls or the kind of person who would be with boys, and it seemed so irrelevant now. Cecil was Cecil. Carlos had never met anyone like Cecil.

Cecil smoothed Carlos' hair. "We can wait. Would you like to wait?"

Cecil was not at all thinking about romances past -- he hardly thought about the past at all, even at times when it was explicitly allowed by various governing authorities. He was not comparing Carlos to a roadside tryst with a gorgeous, indefinable, multicolored being, or to a very cloudy, difficult-to-recall youthful memory of kisses exchanged on a Deep Woods Exploration Merit Badge. Cecil was utterly entranced by how beautiful Carlos was, and if Carlos was happy, he was happy.

And this -- the sincerity in Cecil's voice, the utter lack of even a shadow of resentment -- was what made it okay.  

"No, I want to," Carlos said, taking Cecil's hand from his shoulder and guiding it down toward his hip.

"I am going to have to wrestle you out of those skinny jeans, mister," Cecil said, and Carlos burst out laughing. Because it was true: Carlos' pants were ridiculous. And Cecil dove and grabbed and Carlos bounced and feigned trying to escape, shrieking a little, until he was naked on the strangely perfect bed. He thought of one thing he wanted to do. He pulled Cecil over, not quite beside, not quite on top of him.

"Talk to me," Carlos said quietly, into Cecil's ear.

"Reports of a disturbingly handsome scientist have surfaced in Night Vale," Cecil narrated into Carlos' ear. "He can be identified by his perfect hair --" Cecil ran his fingers along each body part as he referenced it -- "strong jawline...the curve of a lightly muscled neck...arms, ribs, hips, and.." Cecil's hand cupped and pressed Carlos' ass. "...things I can't say on the radio."

Carlos was caught up in the world of Cecil's voice, eyes half closed. Carlos had started to stroke himself almost without realizing it; Cecil saw this and continued to purr, more intense but not louder, into Carlos' ear. "Rumor has it that this disturbingly handsome scientist is a bit...occupied at the moment, but if you do get the chance to see him, I do ever so much recommend it." Cecil slid the hand from Carlos' ass to under his cock, and held firm; Carlos gasped and almost came. "Please do, gorgeous," Cecil purred again and Carlos sped up his strokes and Cecil clutched, a little too hard, and Carlos' orgasm was whole and intense. Cecil licked the residue off his cock and Carlos nearly screamed from the sensation; maybe he did scream, a little.

"Hold me," Carlos managed to say, vaguely aware of the sensation that his body might float away entirely. Cecil was already stretching and spooning around him, nuzzling into his neck. They were under the covers of the perfect bed somehow, which Carlos did not remember getting into. They lay for several minutes when Carlos became aware that he was probably being rude, he should probably...attend to Cecil.

"Nn-nn. You rest," Cecil said, and Carlos didn't know if Cecil had sensed his motions or read his thoughts. Carlos wondered what Cecil was thinking. Carlos was almost beyond thinking.

"You are so _handsome_ ," Cecil gushed. Even though Cecil's voice was muffled into Carlos' shoulder, Carlos could tell that it hadn't changed, that Cecil's inexplicable adoration of him hadn't changed, and he fell asleep in the glow of this strange new comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering: The fact that Carlos had friends in college who were literature and drama majors is a nonspoilery detail I may or may not be recalling correctly from "The Librarian." 
> 
> Feedback/comments are super appreciated. I would love love love some feedback, and/or someone(s) to talk through ideas with. My tumblr (and my gmail) is secretsofluftnarp.


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